


Shades of Draenor: Mirage of sun

by Cazadora, Shaliara



Series: A path of sun and bones [1]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst, Death Knight, Draenor, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Holy and Light elements, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Character Death, Priest, Shadow and Void elements, Warcraft Lore, World of Warcraft: Warlords of Draenor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 02:56:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21403018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cazadora/pseuds/Cazadora, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaliara/pseuds/Shaliara
Summary: He misses the warmth, the light, the sun and wishes to be able to feel it again.He knows he is just running away to another world, another war, so he can  forget. Go forward. Start again.He wishes, though.(Set 6 months into the Draenor campaign.)
Relationships: Female Blood Elf | Elves/Male Blood Elf | Elves (Warcraft), Junre/Kalethis Moonspear, Junre/Nyquist Duskfeather (past), Male Blood Elf | Elves/Male Blood Elf | Elves (Warcraft)
Series: A path of sun and bones [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1542976
Kudos: 5





	Shades of Draenor: Mirage of sun

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU of sorts, set several years later, between my comic ([Path of Blood](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14131230)) and Cazadora's ([Isle of Corruption](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21211358/chapters/50500610)). 
> 
> Beta by Laireshi! (Thank you <3)

Given the circumstances they could have considered themselves lucky.

The camp itself—Stonefang Outpost—was nothing more than a bunch of sturdy orc tents and a fireplace in the center, where the little group gathered now. Frostwolf hospitality welcomed the Horde in that alien land.

An appropriate place to end up.

Junre huddled himself in the old cloak. He didn’t much feel the cold, not like several of his companions did, but there were some gestures that remained like muscle memory. The cloak itself was full of memories, too.

He thought about Nyquist._ We promised, I know, _ he remembered and it was like everything was falling down around him _ , but it is so hard. I don't think I can't… _

_ Don’t go there again. _

He glanced to where Klia, Hakani and Grupt laid in blankets, closer to the fire, a makeshift tent over them. Hakani coughed and he saw blood on her hands; it contrasted with her blue skin. Little Grupt still didn’t move, ashen green face, his breathing uneven. 

The blood elf priest assisting them moved gracefully and quickly with efficient motions. His long blond hair and golden eyes made a match with the healing Light he used. Junre saw Hakani smile up at him in thanks, and even Grupt turned a better colour after a while. 

When he rested his hands on Klia, though, he went still. With a sad look, he put a hand on her eyes and murmured something. Then he proceeded to cover her head with the blanket. Junre felt the cold grip of guilt, again: too many bodies to count.

_ Always the same _ , he thought. _ The dead remain. _

He passed a hand over his own face and hair. He felt the blood drying and sticking his clothes to his skin. 

The attack had been quick and brutal. The ice sleets that ravaged over the plains and the rumble of the lava undercurrents had made the tremors indetectable, so when the big jormungand worm emerged from the ice and towered over them it had been too late to react. 

His own right arm and leg hurt after the creature’s impact when he tried to cover his companions and got thrown several feet away. It got to Klia then. He was too far to stop it. When he managed to reach her, she was shakingly breathing. He noticed the broken ribs over her tunic and...

Magkorak sat beside him on the bench with a sigh and gave Klia’s body a sad look. He was wearing the usual garments of the Frostwolf tribe again, with a wolf pelt crossed across his back—which left his chest exposed apart from some straps—long leather trousers and boots. He wasn’t sure about it but the big orc didn’t seem to mind the cold either. He distantly wondered if it was some sort of Frostwolf ability.

“I know what you’re thinking,” the orc warrior said in his characteristically low voice. “It’s not your fault. Environment here is just as brutal. Earth Mother wards her now.”

Junre sighed.

“I’m used to death. It never gets any easier, though.”

He saw the golden priest get up and approach them. In the silence of the camp, his white tunic made a _ shh _sound where it touched the snow. His face. He had seen him before… 

“I’m sorry,” he said apologetically. "Your friend… She was too far gone. I couldn't do anything for her save praying. She is with the Light now." 

"Thank you." Junre nodded. 

The priest turned his gaze to him and Junre noticed he was being examined with a clinical eye. To be honest his entire right side hurt and he was sitting in a way that favored it. He shifted and felt a pang of pain.

"I see you are in need of healing as well. Let me help you." The priest kneeled beside him on the bench. 

“I will be fine," Junre interrupted him softly. He didn't want to sound rude. "I prefer for you to focus on them.” He made a gesture over Hakani and Grupt.

“Don’t listen to him,” Magkorak intervened, addressing the priest, who looked at him, eyebrows raised. “He always does it, stubborn son of a goren. Heal him, please." 

Magkorak got up from the bench.

“Thank you for your services,… “ he trailed off, a questioning look.

The priest smiled.

“My name is Kalethis Moonspear.”

"Thank you then, Kalethis, it was good to find you and your group here." The orc smiled as well. He pointed at Junre then as he went to where Hakani and Grupt were. "If he keeps on being stupid, please, tell me and I will make sure he has a reason for you to heal him for real." 

Kalethis smiled at Junre and he sighed. The priest then looked at him squinting his eyes, as if he suddenly noticed something. 

“I know you.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. “I remember you from—”

“Icecrown Citadel,” interrupted Junre. That's where he first saw him. They were in the same incursion group that helped the fall of the Lich King. Although it was brief Junre remembered him. He still had that aura. "I think we also met at Pandaria, under the orders of the Lord Regent". 

"Right!" Kalethis smiled warmly. He looked kind of smug. "I'm glad you remember, too."

"I'm Junre," he hesitated for a moment. "Of the Ebon Blade." 

Back to zero. 

He extended his right hand and Kalethis took it in greeting. Kalethis' hand was warm and his was not, but he didn't see the priest surprised at all. 

Suddenly pained because of the movement, Junre shifted and flinched unwillingly. Kalethis looked at him sternly and put a hand on his cloak. 

"May I?"

Junre nodded and removed his cloak slowly. Kalethis helped him remove his armor as well. Trousers and shirt were stained in dry blood. Two big cuts were seen—arm and leg—right where the jormungand worm had hit him. Junre saw Kalethis tighten his lips before he took out a little knife from the pouch he was carrying. 

"I'm sure we will find something that fits you later," he murmured, and then, carefully, made a cut in the fabric, going around the dried blood and the gash wounds. He continued with the arm. Then, slowly, proceed to remove the fabric from the skin. 

_ He doesn't look like Menes at all _, Junre mused, looking at how efficient, how careful Kalethis was being, so unlike the grumpy priest. Menes would have probably torn the fabric without remorse and smile at him flinching.

The cuts weren't that deep after all but they appeared swollen and surrounded with bruises. Cold made him feel numb pain. 

"Let me attune with the Shadows," said Kalethis and closed his eyes. Junre felt colder. 

"Wait," he said quickly. "That will not be necessary. Holy Light will be fine." 

Kalethis regarded him with curiosity. 

"Why? It will be better for you. Holy Light will heal you, but it will also make you feel pain and nausea, while Shadow—" 

"Please," interrupted Junre. "I appreciate your concern. Not many know that about Death Knights. But, please, just use Holy Light." He really didn't want to explain, not now, so he just looked up fiercely to the priest golden eyes. 

Kalethis looked right back, thoughtful and considering for a moment. Night was falling and Junre couldn't very much discern the priest expression, but he nodded in the end. 

"Ok. Ok, I will use Holy Light if you prefer," he said quietly. 

He placed a hand on the Death Knight skin, just where the leg wound was. He murmured something and his hand shone with light. 

Junre couldn't help a gasp when sharp pain shot through him, like a current, coming from the holy power Kalethis was channeling. He gritted his teeth and his knuckles went whiter grabbing the bench edge. His leg felt hot and he noticed the gash closing, the tissue healing. He bowed his head in pain and it felt like it took years for the healing to work. 

He felt Kalethis hand on his forehead, cold now against his feverish skin. It had some tranquilizing effect. 

"Breathe," he said quietly, reassuringly, and his words were like a balm. "It will be over soon." 

Junre closed his eyes and let himself relax for a bit. The priest presence invited to it. His aura. 

It took some moments for Junre to fight off the nausea. When he managed to look up, dizzy, Kalethis was looking at him with concern. 

"It's better if you lay down so I can heal your arm," he said. "Unless you want me to switch to Shadows—" 

"No. No, it's… fine… , " Junre tried to get up quickly and swayed, Kalethis swiftly stood up and took him by their arm. Junre hold onto it. "Thank you. For respecting this, too." 

"No worries. You look like a stubborn man," the priest smiled.

"I… get that a lot, yes." Junre found himself smiling back in spite of the pain. 

The priest helped him into a makeshift bed near Hakani and made him lie down. They were closer to the big campfire and just below some sticks and a big animal skin set up like a tent. He couldn't see the alien sky from there. 

Kalethis knelt beside him and proceeded to heal the wound in his arm. Again the sharp pain, the nausea. 

Again the cold hand on his forehead. He closed his eyes, he was tired. The Light—and the pain—lingered, leaving a feeling of warmth in him. Memories of another time. 

"I will take a look at all of you in the morning," he heard Kalethis was saying, distantly. The healing process, especially with Holy Light, always made him dead tired and dizzy. He noticed a reassuring hand on his arm and some kind of blanket covering him. The priest stood up. 

"Don't worry. You will all be fine." 

Junre just nodded and couldn't answer. He really wanted to believe those words, even if the priest just said it in a physical meaning. It was hard to focus. 

He thought he saw Kalethis smile once more. His tunic made a sush again against the snow as he left. 

He slept, then, and dreamed about a golden dawn.

**Author's Note:**

> It actually started as a conversation and a daring-do thing while questing and it developed into a big, big, big story...


End file.
